Harry Potter and the California Crew I
by MagicalInsanity
Summary: The Noble House of Vega has to flee England after their only child is attacked by a death eater. As they are not the only ones going to California, they make a pact together; excluding the Oliver family, they would keep magic a secret, at least, until their children turn 11... Collab with BloodyJesus, with hints to Jori but first, to honor the tv show, some Bade...
1. Chapter 1: Escaping From Death Eaters

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 1: Escaping From Death . . . Eaters

The main door of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry opened wide suddenly, a tanned woman with waved brown hair busted in, she looked completely desperate and she was holding a little girl with brown hair who was crying loudly and writhing in pain.

"SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME!" The woman screamed with desperation, her voiced sounded raw and it was obvious that her vocal cords were being abused.

"What is all that noise?!" A woman with severe aspect and square spectacles said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere; consider where they were, it wouldn't be surprising. "Oh I say, Holly?! What happened?!"

"PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL!" The woman, Holly, screamed and McGonagall's severe aspect banished as she looked at the little girl crying, cradled in Holly's arms. "A DEATH EATER ATTACKED MY BABY, MY POOR TRINA!"

"What?!" The severe Professor visibly paled, "go to the Hospital Wing immediately! I'll get Professor Dumbledore!"

Holly rushed towards the hospital wing without hesitation, climbing the stairs 2 steps at once and minding all kind of traps that the Castle could provide; seven years in that place were not for naught. When she arrived, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was already there; his long silver beard was shining with the moonlight that was entering through the windows. He had a sober look, one that the young witch hadn't seen before, a mixture of concerned and angry . . .

"Holly," he began with a surprisingly calmed tone, "Professor McGonagall told me that a Death eater attacked little Trina, is that true?"

"YES ALBUS!" Holly affirmed, and Albus noticed that what ran down her cheek were, in fact, tears, not just rain. "HE USED THE CRUCIATUS CURSE ON HER! THE _CRUCIATUS CURSE_!"

"How long?" Dumbledore asked, his features become much more concerned.

"TWENTY MINUTES!" The young witch revealed, outraged and hurt, and she fell on her knees as her crying doubled; how could she let it happen, why didn't she manage to stop them?

"Then she should be treated by Poppy right now," the Headmaster said and, without hesitation, proceeded on calling. Madam Pomfrey, who had been up to get some water, was startled when Dumbledore called her.

"Albus! What is... Holly?" She immediately noticed the writhing baby crying on Holly's arms, as well as the sobs that tore through the recent mother. "What happened to your baby? Oh dear, you're a baby yourself—"

"A Death Eater Poppy," Dumbledore interrupted gravely before the conversation deviated too much, "that, and the cruciatus curse . . ."

"Oh my!" Mrs. Pomfrey rushed towards the women and child. "Let me take care of you both, Holly."

"I think it's better if you—" Dumbledore was about to escort the woman out, but the witch fainted as soon as the child left her arms. "Ah, as expected . . . Little Trina is safe now, Poppy, but we must make sure that her mother doesn't die just yet . . ."

Holly soon came back to consciousness, and the Headmaster gave her a potion to ease her burning throat. She almost lost it if the wise old man hadn't been sitting beside her. She thankfully drank the potion, and felt much better. That was secondary on her mind, but in order for her to deal with what was primary, she had to take care of her throat and make sure she could talk.

"How's my daughter?!" Holly asked right after she finished the potion, holding Dumbledores tunic; her voice was raspy, but at least she wasn't shouting as before.

"She's fine now, Holly," he replied, quite relieved and smiling a little "but, you know how Poppy is, so we cannot bother her now."

"I want to see my daughter!" The witch demanded, already getting ready to leave the bed she was in. "I want to see Trina!"

"Calm down, Holly," said Dumbledore, holding the woman's shoulders; she was surprised by his strength as he prevented her from even rising. "She's safe now, you did the right thing coming here instead of going to St. Mungo's."

"Really?" Holly was surprised; she was muggle-born, so she had forgotten all about the Magical Hospital and instead, opted for going to the one place in Great Britain that she knew was Death Eater repellent. "I honestly forgot all about it, my first thought being that Hogwarts was way closer and safer . . . Why do you say that Albus?"

"Well . . ." The old man sighed, face now marred with worry, "lately, some death eaters have been infiltrating every group possible, and their work is to 'finish the job' of their comrades."

Holly gasped while thinking that she made the best choice of her life. The revelation was enough to make her head spin, and the only thing she heard after a while was 'breathe!'. She inhaled and her vision began to focus. She could have sworn she heard the old man muttering that Poppy would kill him if something happened to her.

"And, where's David?" Dumbledore inquired once Holly sat again.

"He's chasing the bastard who attacked Trina and killed Robert Shapiro," Holly spat with anger, "he's being helped by all the aurors on his department."

Dumbledore didn't answer right away, all he did was look through the window. After several tense moments, in which the mother relaxed a little after tensing, did he look back at her.

"I think it's time for you to leave England," he began softly, his eyes intense on Holly's, "you, and your family."

"You mean only David, Trina and me?" Holly frowned in worry; what about her sisters? But something told her, Dumbledore meant more with those last words.

"Yes, only the three of you... _for now_," the Headmaster smiled candidly and began poking Holly's stomach; she didn't understand the gesture, so she decided to ask.

"What about my sisters?" Her frown became more pronounced, sadder, "will you protect them too?"

"Petunia is safe being the muggle she is," he firmly stated, and she slowly nodded; he was right. "And I'll protect Lily and James with my most powerful Fidelio spell."

"And where are we supposed to go?" Her tone became mournful; they had just settled in a new house which they planned to fill with kids . . . The thought made her grimace; would they want another child after what happened? That aside; "our life's beginning here, we cannot just leave like this."

"I already have some houses prepared," Dumbledore winked at her, and she narrowed her eyes; had he planned this from the start? "The best, is for you to leave the country, at least until Voldemort it's defeated," Holly shuddered at the mention of that name, but Dumbledore kept going, "because, if you stay, the Death Eaters will keep showing up until they fulfill their task."

Holly was thoughtful, but at that moment, Madam Pomfrey arrived.

"How's Trina?" Holly asked right away, previous conversation clearly forgotten. "How's my baby?"

"She's asleep now," answered the healer, smiling somewhat ashamed, "but I'm afraid I couldn't cure her completely. Unfortunately, the unforgivable spell was too strong, she may have sequels . . ."

"What kind of sequels?" Dumbledore asked with a light frown, not minding the horrified expression of the distraught mother.

"Spontaneous pain attacks, nightmares," Poppy shook her head, and passed a lukewarm drink to the shocked witch. "There's a potion that can counter the side effects, but I don't know where to get it, it's really hard to make and finding the ingredients is a different task itself."

Holly looked completely crushed and she was crying silently; Dumbledore by the other hand, was smiling peacefully, as though this too, was expected. It was all part of a grand scheme, and he was the mastermind behind it.

"Ah, that should be no problem," he stated, "I know where to get it."

Taking out his wand and whispering 'Expecto Patronum', a silver-colored phoenix appeared from the tip of his wand and flew away. Nobody talked for a while, not until a man with shoulder-length, greasy black hair and hooked nose entered the Hospital Wing. He was wearing a really long black cape, which was weaving as he walked, and as soon as his eyes connected with Holly's, they both froze.

"You called me, Headmaster?" The wizard inquired in a cold tone, looking at Holly with a weird expression before saying, if it were possible, in an even colder tone, "Vega."

"Snape," answered the mother, head held high, tone was freezing cold.

"Yes Severus, I called you," Dumbledore began as he stepped between the two; old childhood friends could be deadly, especially if they found themselves fighting over things during their school years. "Holly's little girl, Trina, was attacked by a Death Eater. She survived the cruciatus spell, which was continually cast for 20 minutes," Snape looked a little surprised, almost impressed for a second, "and Madam Pomfrey said she could present sequels."

"Well that's obvious," Snape said without changing his tone, "the cruciatus spell is really powerful dark magic."

"Poppy said that there's a potion that can counter the effects and, possibly, rid the child of possible sequels," the Headmaster went on, "and since you're the best potion maker I know, reason for your title as Potion Master, I was wondering if you had that particular potion."

"Indeed, I do," he replied, then his eyes bore into those soft brown ones, which now looked like cooled lava; she feared he would condition her to some, petty scheme of his in order to get to her sister, who was happily married as well, "but the recovering process will be really long . . ."

"How long?" Holly inquired, now apprehensive; at least it wasn't a condition to doing something stupid.

"From 25 to 30 years under normal circumstances," he replied with nonchalance.

They all gasped, and Holly began sobbing uncontrollably at the thought of her daughter suffering pain attacks for about a quarter (perhaps more) of her life.

"But..." The Potion Professor began once the mother had calmed a little; had he done it on purpose? "These aren't normal circumstances. No normal child can withstand the cruciatus spell for that long, even an adult wizard would end with a permanent damage in that time. A . . . baby, would die in less than 5 minute, consider a newborn dead. The fact that she survived the spell that long makes me think that the recovering process could be _considerably_ reduced."

"How much?" It was Dumbledore's turn to ask, since Holly was completely stunned; her daughter survived?!

"Maybe she'll take only 10 to 12 years for full recovery," answered Snape, "even less if she's as strong as she has proven herself to be . . ."

"Those are really good news," the Headmaster told Holly, his confident smile in place, "maybe she'll be able to come to Hogwarts on time. But, even if she isn't, I must say that she'll always be welcomed at Hogwarts. For her, exceptions can be made, her age won't matter." He then turned to Snape, "Severus, please bring the potion, and I'll ask you the favor to always keep reserves of it."

The Professor agreed dryly, his face twisted as though he had something foul on his mouth, and walked away.

"Snape!" Holly called and he stopped, then turned slightly to look at her from above his shoulder without saying anything. Her eyes became soft, but still held a cold quality to it. "Thanks."

With a bitter smile on his face, Snape walked away. He came back after a few minutes holding a big jar of a potion that looked like liquid ruby.

"Here's the potion," he said with no interest, but handing the jar with care to Madam Pomfrey. "You must give the girl a cup every two hours during a week, and then a cup once a month until she recovers completely. If they become more frequent, give her half every two weeks, but only during extreme occasions."

"Why not give her the potion more often?" The healer inquired. "Like once a week?"

"Because this potion may become toxic if done irresponsibly," he snapped, "and it will make the pain attacks more frequent and longer instead of curing them." With that said, he turned at Holly, eyes hard and cold. "You'll have to be patient if you want your daughter to be cured completely."

"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore said, smiling pleasantly, "you may go now."

"Thanks, Snape, I . . . Me and David, we owe you much . . ." Her eyes were still soft, and she allowed shame to color her voice. "Trina will owe you much . . ."

The Potions Master craned a brow, and waved her words off; she frowned at this, but did and said nothing. They watched him stop at the door, then turned to his right, not even looking at them, but they could clearly see his profile. "Anything for Lily's niece." That said, he vanished.

"I'd better give the potion to Trina right now," Poppy remarked, leaving her older patient to the care of the Headmaster.

"So..." Dumbledore began, as they were one again left alone, "are you willing to leave England?"

"Yes," the witch answered with a heavy heart, and then all worries vanished as she was given her baby, who was drinking the potion and seemed much calmer. "I don't want my daughter to be attacked again, although I'll be kinda lonely, with my friends and family being here and all . . ."

"Oh, but some of them are leaving too," he notified her cheerfully.

"Really?" Holly couldn't hide the surprised, then her curiosity. "Who?"

"Well," Dumbledore paused a bit, frowning slightly, "the Oliver family already left, Robbie's wife will too, but the West House are leaving tonight; if they don't, things will go very bad for them . . ."

"The West—?!" Holly managed to control her shock, and held her child close. "I thought they were sent to Azkaban . . ."

"They had a really good story to cover their crimes," the Headmaster replied with a frown; "as all good Slytherin, but it only managed to get them away. Unlike the Malfoy House, who were declared innocent. Not to worry, they've been warned: any spell they cast, even a Wingardium Leviosa, and both will go directly to Azkaban."

Holly calmed down and became thoughtful; the fact that the last of the Noble Family of West couldn't cast any spell, and since Sylvia Shapiro would leave too, she wasn't going to be alone.

"But, what about the potion?" She asked with a soft and delicate frown. "How can I get it if I leave the country?"

"Severus made enough for a year," answered Dumbledore, "and I'll send Poppy every summer vacations with a new jar of potion for Trina, and to check her recovery progress."

Holly was still thinking; moving from England meant beginning everything again, but the safety of her daughter was more important than anything else.

"Alright Albus," she replied after much deliberation, "I'll leave England as fast as possible."

"I'm glad that you understand," he looked quite happy with her answer, "then you're leaving right now."

"What?" Holly asked, surprised, "but what about David? What about all our things?"

"They'll be waiting for you, right in your new house," he replied confidently, "go now."

Holly sighed, reluctant but obedient. Taking her now-sleeping child, the healer passed her the jar and all she could do, was wonder how she was going to make it there.

"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked, watching her juggle with child and jar; Poppy approached, flustered, and helped the recent mother deal with everything.

"I just wanted to ask you something before," Holly began, looking at the girl in her arms, "before we leave."

"What is it?" The Headmaster looked at her gravely.

"Where are you sending us?" Fear trickled over her tone, and he chuckled good naturedly, choosing to make a baby carrier out of one of the blankets; the two women looked at him, amazed at his ability.

"California, United States" his simple answer left them in mild shock, especially when the child was tied safely and securely around her mother's chest and back; he was wearing his usual, candid smile, "I want you to be as far as possible from the Death Eaters and Voldemort. Besides, muggles say it's really beautiful there."

It was Holly's turn to smile as the healer left after making sure that the mother was all right, and once the witch agreed and Poppy left, Dumbledore took a little cup from inside his tunic. Wiggling his eyebrows, he placed it on the window and pointed at it with his wand, muttering 'Portus'. The cup glowed with a pale blue light and it shook a little; the Portkey was ready.

"Now Holly, I wish you the best of lucks," was the Headmaster's farewell, face radiating his most honest smile, "touch the portkey before the spell vanishes . . . or before Madam Pomfrey realizes she's missing a cup."

"Thanks Albus," the witch said, laughing at his wink; she then hesitated a bit free hand extended towards the cup, "I have one last request," she turned to him, face pleading and serious, "please take care of my sisters."

"As I said before, Petunia is safe being a muggle," his sober tone scared her, "and, unless James and Lily trust the wrong person, they'll be all right."

Holly smiled sadly before touching the little cup with a single finger, and she disappeared right away.


	2. Chapter 2: Disappearing Disease

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 2: Disappearing Disease

11 years passed since Holly left Hogwarts that fateful night. A year ago, when Madam Pomfrey arrived and her eldest still suffered from some pain due to magic, she felt an overwhelming need to cry; her baby girl wouldn't be able to go to Hogwarts that year. Yet it was all thanks to Snape's potion and Poppy's cares that Trina grew as a healthy child, and the healer believed in precaution; better to start a year late, than to have her suffer while she was there.

Holly was gravely conflicted; part of her wanted her child to go to Hogwarts, the other, to save the girl from pain. She remembered how it was at the beginning. It had been really, _really_ hard for her, mainly due to the pain attacks and how frequently they occurred. If it wasn't because of the sparks; by the age of 10 Trina's attacks had disappeared almost completely, she would have been able to assist to school without trouble. But it was best to be prudent than reckless; this didn't make her feel less conflicted.

So, in order to keep everything in the low and aid in the healing, she had stopped all magic use. David agreed, as he was the one who came up with the idea and even took a muggle job to prevent them from attracting unwanted attention. To their daughters, magic was part of make believe, and the closest thing to it were muggle tricks, nothing else. They weren't witch and wizard; they were only husband and wife. She was grateful that the West family, which lived in the neighborhood, couldn't use magic, and that Marie Oliver decided, out of respect, not to use it; poor Mrs. Shapiro was bound by a promise to her daughter-in-law and she was nothing, if not an honorable woman.

Shaking those thoughts off, she called Trina over. It was time for her annual check-up, so even though it was summer, the chimney was on. As always, Madam Pomfrey arrived at 13:00 hours without miss. Exchanging usual greetings, they heard rampaging elephants, stomping down the stairs. Her youngest arrived (they never liked to miss when the "doctor" arrived or left their house) just to be tackled by a slightly taller girl, and they both rolled on the floor.

"Ouch!" The youngest claimed, still left on the carpeted floor, and pouting as her sister went to stand in front of the healer; the women laughed. "No fair Treen!"

"Quit your whining," Trina replied, smugly, but her face fell when the cup was brought and she groaned. "Why can't Tori drink it for me?!"

"Yeah, I wanna taste!" The youngest quipped; the sisters looked at each other, frowning a bit at the fact that they couldn't see exactly _where_ their mother kept the drink.

"Tori, we've talked about this," Holly replied with a sigh; she passed the healer the cup and went to help her youngest straighten, "it's for Trina's pain attacks."

"She hasn't had any for a full year!" The youngest remarked with quite a pout, then it turned smug as she faced the doctor, who was inspecting her sister with a stick, "I've been taking the best care of her."

"Yeah, you have," Trina remarked fondly, taking a chance as the stick was removed from her person to hold her sister's head between her right arm and ruffling the chocolate mane; she used that chance to whisper, "she's using the dowsing rod."

"She _always_ uses the dowsing rod," the other replied, struggling to break free.

Holly sighed at their antics. "Girls . . ."

"Sorry mom." They straightened; even though Tori never asked questions, after a while, Trina said she wanted her baby sister to get checked up, _just in case_.

"Close your eyes," Poppy requested, smiling as the girls obeyed, "now, remember, don't fret or move much."

It was the last examination, checking the magic levels and how well they handled it. It was cute, she believed, how Tori, instead of being jealous about Trina's special treatments, developed a protective nature towards her sister due to her condition; she had to take care of her at the school when she got pain attacks there, and protect her from the children who made fun of her. But there was a flaw, and it was that it made them angry or scared, or both, and weird stuff happened when either of them didn't get those strong feelings under control.

The healer knew about all those misadventures, like when a boy grew a long brown dog tail because he called Trina a freak, or that time when Trina got a pain attack when they were heading back from school. That last incident, proved to be the most lucrative. The youngster, panicked and trying her best to not show it, began to run, pulling Trina's arm but after a few seconds, both girls felt as though they were sucked by some sort of twisting portal and appeared in front of their house. They described the sensation as being 'pressed very hard from all directions. They could not breathe, as if there were iron bands tightening around their chests and their eyeballs were being forced back into their head. Worse, their eardrums felt as though they were being pushed deeper into their skull.'

"Like, being forced through a very," Tori had remarked, feeling queasy, "a _very_ tight rubber tube."

To say least, they felt like throwing up; they actually did. Madam Pomfrey knew why Holly was really proud (and worried) of that day, so much of both that she asked the girls to repeat the tale for the healer to hear and she had to do triple checks on Trina that year. What they described was the high level Apparition, though the girls never knew why their mother acted so happy and yet concerned, and then their father made such a big deal of it. It was a decisive point; ever since forever, Trina was Holly's baby but Tori, Tori _officially_ became a daddy's girl that day.

"So . . ." Holly was hovering expectantly, and while Trina didn't flinch this time, her hands shook. Tori though, seemed to vibrate. "How are they?"

Madam Pomfrey didn't answer right away, she just looked at the girls for a few seconds and then, she finally spoke.

"Okay girls," she remarked softly, and the children sat down; they seemed to be ready for some mischief and it would explain why the eldest trembled. The healer turned her most inquisitive look at her. "No attacks in a year?"

"Last one I had was during my last check-up," the girl remarked with a shrug as the youngest began pouting.

"It would have been two years hadn't that happened," the child commented sullenly, and the adults chuckled at her antics; she pouted some more and turned away.

"What about your nightmares?" Poppy asked, turning the eldest face a bit; the blush was answer enough. "Ah . . ."

"No, that's my fault," Tori admitted quietly, taking hold of her sister's hand, "I've been having those, so, lately . . ."

"Tori, I told you," Holly began with a soft sigh, "Trina has to sleep alone—"

"Everyone has nightmares!" Trina began; just as her sister was protective of her, she was protective of her sister, "I would often crawl with you guys, then I began crawling in her bed and now, she crawls in mine!"

"Sorry," the youngest looked ready to burst in tears, and being a good, older sister, she placed a comforting arm around her shoulder, giving their mother and intense glare, "very sorry . . ."

"Well, sleeping with another doesn't mean she can't have them," the healer shook her head, and gave the mother a pointing look, "I think you might do well to remember, Holly . . ."

"Ahh, very true," their mother blushed softly and they looked between the grown-ups in awe; should they rejoice in someone getting the upper hand with their mother, or protect her?

"Wait, so that's it?" Tori asked suddenly, tears away as though they were _actual_ water works; she approached the healer shyly. "Is my sis finally cured?"

The healer smiled fondly at the girls, especially when Trina went to stand by her sister's side, clearly there in case the answer was a negative. They were such close girls, but from the way she understood, the eldest could be a tad difficult. Huge, hazel eyes gaze at her and she rolled her eyes as a smile appeared on her face.

"They take so well after their mother," she remarked, giving the woman a question a glance, then turning to both girls and offering them a cauldron cake and a bottle of butterbeer each, "I guess, she's finally cured."

Holly sighed with relief, taking the girl's treat before they could dig in but they didn't care. Tori and Trina cheered and hugged while jumping around; they then both ran towards the healer and hugged her. She was a bit taken aback, but hugged them back as well.

"Now then," she began, trying to calm them down, "don't forget Trina that this is due to your own strength."

"See, I knew I was strong!" Trina began, smugly, pushing her sister a little, but the contact made them realize that Tori had a bad, rug burn. "Sorry . . ."

"No, you're not," the youngest accused, then smiled when the doctor placed some ointment on her; Madam Pomfrey was used to their antics, and always kept something on her to help her in such occasions. "It's sad that you don't have to come."

"We'll miss you," Trina agreed with something of a pout. She believed she was too old to pout.

"I'm pretty sure we'll meet again, sooner than either of you expect," she told them mysteriously, although her tone was as serious as ever; was it them, or did the doctor have a mysterious smile? "Tori, you're about to turn 11, right? And you, young lady, will turn 12, right?"

"Yes," Trina replied, both girls looking confused. "That's next week, why?"

"I'm not the proper person to explain," she replied kindly, but the look she gave Holly, who looked kinda nervous, was filled with meaning; the girls looked at each other. "Anyway, I think we'll be seeing each other soon."

After that unusual observation, the girls' hissed at each other and pointed to the clock. Madam Pomfrey simply smiled, placed a long, dark navy blue robe on herself, and went to the kitchen. Holly prevented the girls from entering, and ushered them off to the second floor. The girls turned around, tiptoed to the kitchen. The grown-ups were discussing something in low voices, but the girls had their own plan. Sure, they wanted to know what the doctor had meant, why her mother kept promising explanations during Tori's birthday. So they would ask questions, _after_ the came back.

"You ready to leave?" Trina asked once they got to the jacket closet; they had stashed their goodies and the beds were already prepared to make it seem as though they were asleep already.

"I'm still not sure it's a good idea," Tori replied uncertainly; she still took their jackets out, "mom _and_ dad both have told us not to go to the West Household."

"So what?" The eldest snorted a bit, folding her jacket and placing it in her bag as she rolled her eyes. "Really, I swear you're worse than mom at times. It's summer Tor, _summer_."

"It sometimes gets chilly at night!" The girl replied with a mild huff. "You just want to go see Beck, don't you?"

"Well, duh," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Besides, they're going to be doing magic tricks."

"Magic tricks?" That always sparked the youngest interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, so ready to break some rules and sneak out of the house?" She grinned wickedly, eyes sparkling, and her sister nodded; at long-last, reluctance was overcome and worries forgotten. "We go to the party for a while and we come back before mom or dad realize the ruse left in our room! Besides, it's at HC."

"Wait, Hollywood Conservatory is at the other side of the city . . ." She frowned in realization. "How are we getting there in the first place?"

"How about you do that magic trick of yours?" They had kept it a secret, but the youngster had been trying to master it, and they felt lucky that nothing bad had happened yet. At the reluctance, Trina huffed a bit. "Listen Tori, I've been sick my whole life, and now that I know I'm better, I totally deserve to celebrate. Not just a little, but since that's all we have for now, I'm taking it!"

The youngest sighed and opened the door. Trina was right, as she usually was; that was the reason why she was the oldest, right? Besides, they rarely went out for something other than going to school and HC, and since Treen finally could, she definitely deserved to have fun for once. Even though her mother had advised her against using that trick, none of those freaky incidents had happened to either of them as she practiced. She took a step out (mom had recommended only trying outdoors) and went to the lawn. She had clearly forgotten that Holly had said no in the first place, although they weren't going to the West household and besides, the girl who invited them (Cat Valentine, a cute, cheerful redhead from their neighborhood) was really nice to them, if odd, and she was very excited at the fact that Trina would go. They noticed a cat was in the walkway, for a second, Tori thought the cat was wearing square shaped glasses, but it was just a pattern around the cat's eyes, looking kinda severe. They had never seen such a cat in the neighborhood before.

"Okay!" Tori said, taking a deep breath and extending her hand; her sister beamed and the youngster realized that she had never seen Trina so happy in her whole life, and that alone made it a risk worth taking. "Here we go!"


	3. Chapter 3: Party to the West!

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 3: Party to the West!

A step later, and Tori was drenched in sweat. Trina was used to the feeling now, and allowed her sister to take some breaths. The music conservatory was quite popular and it was the one place both girls had always felt safe at; Trina's pain attacks seemed to diminish to the sound of music . . . Once the youngest had her belly under control, her sister gave her a huge hug. Tori couldn't help it, she smiled; right then, she wasn't worried about getting in trouble, since getting grounded was a small price for her sister's happiness. Trina was hopping when they walked to the front door, as they had appeared by some green that surrounded the place.

"Come on Tori!" Trina began pulling at her sister's arm as they crossed the threshold. "We're almost there!"

Trina pulled her skinny sister, climbing the stairway of the conservatory by jumping 2 steps at once, really excited to finally get to the party, not realizing that Tori tripped over and was barely able to keep from hitting herself trying to keep up with Trina's speed.

When they finally arrived to the entrance of the birthday hall; Tori managing to survive without further pains than the rug burn, which was gone, they realized two things:

Number 1: The hall was huge, beautiful and elegant; they were amazed by every single detail of it, and number 2: the party wasn't as big as they expected, there were only seven people there besides the two of them, one man, four boys and two girls. One girl was sullen, like all the time, near a big table with presents, a cage with a black kitty inside it (it was mewing pitifully, clearly upset at being caged), and a birthday cake. The other girl was Cat Valentine, the one who invited them to the party; her long, straight, red velvet hair and gleaming brown eyes made her easy to recognize. The girl was entertained with a huge, pink balloon shaped like a unicorn, and she was playing with it, giggling.

This meant that the other girl, the sullen one, could only be the West girl; neither Trina nor Tori knew her name. She had wavy black hair and uncanny blue-green eyes, pale enough to make them wonder if she was sick. Besides her was a sinister looking man, who told her something in a cold and deadly tone. Suddenly, the girl snapped back and an argument arose between father and daughter. Tori took that chance to sneak by and leave the present; it wasn't fancy, just a pair of red scissors. Cat had said she liked those . . .

On the other side of the room, the boys were looking at the instruments with intensity, and they became quiet and uncomfortable due to the discussion between the father and daughter. Beck was among them; it was generally well known how he was friends with the West child, and also that he was cool and obviously younger than he seemed. Trina and Tori slowly walked towards them, since the Oliver boy was an interest of Treen, but someone stopped them before they could make themselves invisible.

"Yay!" Certain redhead giggled and hugged Tori and Trina. "The Vega sisters showed up!"

When Cat pronounced the word Vega, Mr. West abruptly ended the discussion with his daughter and glared at Trina and Tori. The girls didn't walk back, just stared at him and a weird smile appeared on the man's face; seeing the smile, his daughter stepped on his left foot with the heel of her shoe and walked towards Tori and Trina.

"So you're the Vega sisters, huh?" The birthday girl asked, looking at them; they were shocked to see she had a piercing in her left eyebrow. "I've never seen either of you in public before."

"Yeah," the youngest frowned a bit, but feeling the need of being honest, "my sister was a little . . . sick. It seems that excitement made her worse to we could only come to sing . . ."

"I see . . ." Piercing eyes went to the eldest sibling, her look thoughtful; she ignored her father's outrage at the low blow from her, "anyways, I'm Jade West. Welcome to the mess only I can make, at my own _birthday_ party."

"Thank you for inviting us," Trina said excitedly, she was smiling, "I really appreciate it."

Jade smiled ironically, snorting a bit and the redhead began bouncing; it was clear that she was being sarcastic with the word 'birthday'. "It's yours if you want."

"Aww, come on Jadey—"

"Don't call me that!" She demanded of the redhead, fuming, "I have told you many times, no parties!"

"Jade," a big, pale hand took hold of her shoulder, "if you don't like it, then we should leave."

"Like hell!" She replied bitterly, "make your disappearing act already!"

"See here—" He began with an exhale, but she kicked his shin and jumped out of reach; he fell.

"If you won't, I will!" With that said, she turned around and suddenly, wasn't there anymore.

"Awww, she won't teach me that trick!" Cat pouted, then _eep_-ed and hid behind the girls as the man shot her a look; he then left the room, but obviously not the conservatory. "Her father is scary . . ."

"When did this child learn to apparate?" He muttered as he left with a frown, and the sisters looked at each other.

"Her father?" The youngest of the Latinas shuddered.

"Yes," the pouting redhead repeated, "he's . . . Jade says: _a real creep_. I think so too, he's really creepy."

"Uhhh, yeah, I think Jade means something else," Tori muttered, obviously unheard.

"You can say that again," Trina turned to Tori then, "seems like you're not the only one with this 'apparate' thingy . . ."

"Ohhh, you can?" She jumped about eagerly, "please teach me!"

"Um, my mum said I shouldn't," the youngest sibling replied, "and I'm not sure _he_ would like it."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Cat waved her hand as if dismissing Mr. West, "he hates us all."

"Why do you say that?" For someone who lived in her head (their mother had allowed them to invite the redhead from time to time), she seemed rather perceptive on such occasions.

"He was angry since we arrived, and he has been glaring at us all since we were making some magic tricks to cheer up Jade," Cat shuddered again, and suddenly, the boys began making music. "I invited a lot of people, but I guess they saw him and left."

"Or are really scared of him to even show up," Jade remarked, irked, appearing out of nowhere, "bunch of spineless fools . . . Even Cat stayed! And she practically wets her pants when she sees him! Oh, I don't think I caught your names."

She began leading them towards the stage, where the boys kept it up. Cat began bouncing, and telling her the girls' name as the moved, not that the pale girl looked remotely interested.

"I assume, you know Beck," she remarked, and the girls watched as the positions were being disputed until the one in the keyboard, said something, and everyone else followed. "The one who wanted the guitar and lead, is Reginald."

"Oh, we have some potential hot stuff!" The boy who was now sitting at the drums said, then growled and made a cat gesture, winking.

"That's the reason why you ain't lead man!" The boy in dreadlock remarked. "You'll scare the ladies! My name," he played a playful tune on the piano, "is André Harris."

"Hey Rob, say something to defend me!" The drummer demanded of the bass player, who cringed. "I really doubt he has backbone, J . . . It's his third pair of pants, and I think he only has another pair . . ."

"That's Robert, Robbie for short," she motioned between the drummer and his brother, "don't let looks fool you, they're twin brothers; Jews, to top it all."

"Hey!" They both cried in mild indignation, but she waved their words away.

"Boys, these are Tori and Trina," each girl raised their hands as their names were said, "the _elusive_ Vega sisters."

"I sometimes see you guys from the window of my room," Trina said with a soft pout, then grinned with a light blush at Beck, "you're an amazing skater."

"Thanks," he shrugged, but his smile was grateful, "since I can't sing for my life, Jade, how about joining us?"

Trina looked a little disappointed, and noticed the way he extended his hand and helped the girl to the stage. She felt a strange surge of jealousy. The girl, told them something, and they began playing a song. It was obviously a cover, but the way the pale girl sang with feeling and passion; _Freak Like Me_ by Halestorm. Once the song was done, they left the stage, and began performing magic tricks. Tori noticed that on the window, the strange cat with spectacles was watching them, as though intrigued.

"Robbie, don't try it again," his brother warned.

"But Rex, I did it before!" He sounded as excited as a five-year-old. "I can so pull it off again!

"For this trick, all I need is a pitcher of milk," Cat cutely appeared, dressed like a pink bunny, "take into account that it's, in fact, full of milk! And now . . ."

He stretched his pants and began pouring milk in it. The trick was that the milk disappeared and nobody (but the magician), knew where it went. It failed miserably, and the boy left there, crying in misery as his brother sighed and took out a pair of pants from his brother's bag.

"My magic," Beck began with a flourish; he had a vest over his polo shirt, and no gloves, "for the one whose birthday is today; this is my gift."

Out of thin air, he produced a rose, and presented it to Jade, who had a soft look on her perpetually scowling features. Everyone clapped. He bowed, then, while Jade held it, he passed his hand by it, and it slowly froze. Everyone held their breaths and were awed by the display; he hadn't covered the rose while it froze. The pale girl was awed then, and gave him a tender smile; he grinned.

"And to our newcomers!" He gestured to the Latinas, and produced a daisy, for Tori, and a lily for Trina.

André did a card trick, which was pretty cool; he asked everyone to pick a card from a normal deck of cards, shuffled, then threw them to the sky. The ones that landed face up were the cards that each had picked, and when they picked them, a tarot card appeared behind it. He was quite applauded, and next, Rex did a 'cut the assistant', and since Cat fled right then (they didn't see where she went) he picked Robbie. The boy ended up bleeding a little, but not cut in half. They had fun.

"You girls know any tricks?" Jade asked the Vega sisters as she began preparing her stage.

"My sis can do that vanishing act," Trina replied smugly, even though she had been prohibited from trying magic tricks herself. Tori gasped. "Come on, Tor, stand in your chair."

"Wha?" But being used to doing as her older sister requested did so without thought; she was pushed from the chair.

"Do it Tori!" She thought she heard Treen say, but it sounded so far away . . . Shouldn't she have landed already? Using fear as a catalyst, she felt as though she landed somewhere, or rather someone. "Yes! See?"

"So . . . sorry," the youngest Latina stuttered, clinging onto the body that held her, bridal style.

The others weren't clapping, mainly because they were waiting for certain West to go on a tirade; Jade was never one for touchy feeling others, except her baby brother and mum, but that was family. There was the rare occasion and the tolerant occasion, the former being Beck, the latter Cat, but someone she just met? They expected the girl to land on her back after the most un-ceremonial drop. But the pale girl was holding the other, although the scowl was evident. Apparently, she was whispering something.

"Take a deep breath, regain your sense of direction," she urged, "you've done this before, probably puked that first time but, if you've practiced, you can control your body."

The caramel body had been trembling, but soon regained her sense of self. Muttering her thanks, she was helped to standing position and then gestured for her to take a sit. Trina took her sister in a loving embrace and apologized softly. Ignoring the stares, Jade got ready; she was dressed very much like Beck, only that she did have black leather gloves on. From the table that held all their props, she picked a single and lonely hat; it was too big for a person to wear.

"Ladies, and Gents," she began, throwing the hat towards Rex, who just came in with his brother, who was sniffling, "as you'll be seeing, there's nothing inside that hat."

Everyone began making sure this was so, Trina more thoroughly than she should, while Tori did a simple inspection. They looked among themselves, nodding and murmuring excitedly. It would seem that it was Jade's first time performing a trick in front of them all.

"Now that you know with satisfaction and have seen with your own eyes," she received the hat back from Tori, "I believe it's fair to warn you, this trick is not to be attempted by others."

"Jade! I've been searching everywhere for you!" Her father exclaimed, frowning. "And what are you doing?! Your mother and I have told you enough about mocking magic with such basic trickery!"

"Ah, but father dear," she replied, pushing her arm shoulder deep into the hat; the kids' breath hitched, "this is no trickery . . .

"Now then," she began slowly pulling her arm out, staring at her father with cold eyes, "I've never been able to take a rabbit out of a hat . . . Rather, I've only been able to pull a _cat_ out of it. There are, of course, exceptions, as today."

Cat appeared, meowing like a cat even though she still had her bunny ears.

"Drop that, _thing_ this instant!" Her father demanded in outrage, even though someone began clapping and soon, everyone else was clapping; meaning her friends, which made the pale girl smile. Placing her redheaded friend down, she noticed that everyone else was ushered away by one mad, Mr. West.

"Now Rhyolus, I believe you should give her credit for quite a spectacular trick . . ." The voice came from the table were the presents and cake were. "Quite a lovely party, too bad it's rather . . . empty . . ."

"It's not a trick," the pale teen said, scowl gracing her features; she walked up to the woman, although her father obviously didn't want her too, "and I believe a present of mine seems rather pleased in your lap."

"Ah, a cat has never liked confinement," the woman remarked, passing the black cat to its rightful owner; it rested in the girl's shoulder, "Rhyolus, please, it's unseemingly to _gawk_."

The children turned and snickered at the grown man; he grew more furious. But Tori was too busy staring at the woman to noticed how mad the adult was. Shocked, she turned to her sister, who began moving her.

"Trina, she looks like the spectacled cat that was outside our house!" The youngest girl said in awe.

"What?!" Her sister frowned and stopped, looking at her sister, "what are you talking about Tor—"

"That she looked like that cat!"

"Minerva, I don't approve of you showing up unannounced at my daughter's party," he spat, interrupting the girl's bickering, "now, if you have a letter to deliver, I suggest you do it now or—"

"Rhyolus Magnus—" The woman began with outrage but the daughter in question placed herself between the woman and her father, expression fierce, forcing the man to stop and interrupting the stranger who stopped her father.

"Well, I _believe_ this is _my_ party, and since the woman I invited was forbidden from coming," she snarled, taking hold of the kitty to prevent it from falling, "I would like for Minerva to stay."

"You cannot—" He began roaring but she kicked his shin then made him fall by stomping on his remaining foot.

"She definitely has your temper, Rhyolus," the woman _tut_-ted, shaking her head, "I would recommend you all to eat the cake soon."

"Meh," Jade remarked, taking the cake, which was shaped like a pumpkin, and placed it in another empty table, "so how do we call you, Minerva?"

"Don't talk to her," her father said through gritted teeth.

"Well, I'm here to make sure you all received your letters, formally," she began, looking serious.

"Letters?" They muttered, while Mr. West paled.

"You may call me, Professor McGonagall." The woman said seriously, adjusting her glasses, and watching with amusement as the kids began picking chunks of the cake and eating. "In regards to your letters . . ."

Eight bundles of feathers came pouring through the windows, and the man screamed in aggravation, but the sound was lost to the hoots of the owls, and the hiss of a single cat; the birds had a hard time landing when they heard the sound, and the one which was flapping out of control crash-landed on the cake. Once they saw this (the other birds landed besides the presents) all the children groaned sadly; Jade craned her pierced brow, clearly not sorry to see the sweet go.


	4. Chapter 4: The Truth

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 4: The Truth

"You cannot possibly mean that all this mudbl—" The woman had a stick out, making him bite his own tongue.

"You should know better than to use such language in my presence, Mr. West," the witch remarked; she noticed with disapproval that the letter that hadn't found its owner was from the sweet-covered owl, "Mr. Shapiro, I believe that your letter is on that particularly clumsy owl . . ."

"Oh," Robbie moved cautiously towards the still-shaky bird, and cautiously took the letter from its beak.

"A clumsy owl for a clumsy kid," Rex snickered, but he was the only one; he scowled at that.

"Yeah, would someone care to explain what the term 'mudblood', 'muggle' and 'muggle-lover' mean?" Jade requested as she traced the letters on her envelope with a delicate finger. "From his usual rant, all I can make of it is the word traitor, which is very dumb of him."

"My mum says we should never use those words," Beck said with a light frown.

"I figured they were bad words Beck," she replied with an inclined head, "I cannot inquire on the meaning if I don't say the word, ok?"

"Oh, right, well," he cleared his throat, "muggle means someone who doesn't have magic in their blood, mudblood is someone who is born from muggles, but has magic and a muggle-lover is basicly someone with magic who support muggles."

"Ah, at least someone knows," Minerva nodded.

"Ah, that solves nothing, but answers the question," the pale girl replied with a soft frown. She began opening her letter while everyone else gasped.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Minerva inquired with a light frown of her own. "Open them! Who are they addressed to? You, or your parents?"

As everyone opened them, the woman approached the Latinas. Everyone just got their letters out but nothing else; their eyes were caught by the stranger and the girls.

"My, you've both grown to quite lovely young ladies," she remarked almost pleasantly, "ah, but you probably don't remember me Katrina, and this must be your baby sister, Victoria . . ."

"Uhh . . ." Both girls turned towards each other, "you know us?"

"And your mum and dad; heavens knows that boy gave me a run around the school, just like his friends," she mused, face severe, "I was their Professor and Head of House. Gauging by several expressions, your parents never spoke to any of you about this. Young Harris, let me know if you have some trouble; I'm certain your cousin Lee had some, so we might need to send someone over to explain.

"Any way, the letter explains most of it, so go on, _read_." She urged, frown clear in worry.

The kids exchanged looks, and began checking the other's envelopes. They all had the same things written, in the same letter and in the same, green ink. The only one who was frozen in place was Jade, hands shaking so badly, that she could destroy the delicate parchment.

Trina's said:

_Ms. K. Vega_

_Hollywood Conservatory_

_Los Angeles, California_

_United States of America_

Trina opened the letter right away, and as she read the first line, she gasped:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Ms. Vega,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

Beck cheered, while most looked about in confusion. André was overwhelmed; Cat was overjoyed, Jade looked ready to kill and the twins . . . Well, Robbie was perplexed while Rex was shocked and angered. Meanwhile, Tori and Trina looked at each other with their eyes wide open. From all the things they could imagine, a school of magic was the least one, or at least, to most of them; Cat was Cat and Beck was obviously in the loop. Perhaps it was some kind of joke? But, as they stared, they realized it would be odd for Beck to actually work in such an elaborate ruse with Mr. West, who was looking far too angry to be pleased with himself on how everyone was confused.

"Nanan has lots to explain," Reginald seethed, placing the letter inside his jacket pocket, "I'm gonna kill that woman!"

He ran out, and his brother ran after him, crying out his name. "Rex!" The perplexing scene was interrupted by one giggling and insane redhead, who went as far as to hug the stern woman.

"I'm a wizard!" She proclaimed, not realizing the shocked look upon the robed female. "_Yay_!"

"Miss Valentine!" The Professor began with some outrage.

"But," the girl pouted. "It feels like hugging a cat..."

That left the Head of House baffled. Right then, the man chose to bark out a harsh laughter, which scared the girl and she hid behind the woman. Mr. West, dusting his impeccable robes off, stood, face laced with superiority and arrogance.

"You see, _Professor_," he began with a snide, "these . . . _children_, don't deserve a chance as big as that. Hogwarts should remain pure—"

"Perhaps you need to be reminded," McGonagall began severely, placing a protective hand on the redhead's shoulder, "that at Hogwarts, we don't care about the blood status."

He scowled. "Perhaps I should accept the invitation from my good friend, Karkaroff, and send my children to Durmstrang Institute . . ."

"Excuse me, but I believe I have a say in _where_ I go?" Jade remarked, first words spoken, eyes fierce on her father's.

"And if you wish to attend Hogwarts, you'll be welcome," the woman assured her, then turned to the others, "you've all had a place reserved there, especially you, Miss Katrina . . ."

"Oh yeah, the _special_ case," the man snorted with dignity, "first time in the history of Hogwarts that you'll have a twelve-year old start school . . ." He turned to sneer at the girl. "They usually start at eleven, like my Jade."

"Wasn't one of your friends the one found guilty?" McGonagall inquired, fire in her eyes, "though he was obviously acting through orders, David never did found who."

"Wow! Wait a second here!" Tori looked livid. "You mean that her sickness is due to magic?"

"Well, yes," the woman was surprised by the display.

"Then we're not going!" The youngest of the sisters remarked, placing her foot down as though it were final.

"Tori!" Trina remarked, quite surprised; only Jade looked appraising at the words. "You just can't make my choice!"

"But Treen, you heard them," she pled. "It's the reason why you got those attacks . . ."

"It's also the reason why she's better now," the woman approached the sisters, placing a delicate hand on the eldest shoulder, tender smile in place, "I remember clearly your mother entering the school, panic-stricken, voice hoarse from shouting, her vocal cords strained too far to be prudent . . . After you were in Poppy's hands, she fainted briefly."

"You mean, Madam Pomfrey?!" They asked, gawking until it hit them. "Of course! That's why we never heard the bell ring!"

"Now then, everyone must go home," McGonagall began cautiously, "your parent's will explain everything."

"Come along Jade," Rhyolus began then stopped when he noticed someone at the door.

"Uh, Miss West, we managed to contact your mother," the man turned white; "she'll be arriving soon."

"I guess, this is where we part ways," the girl sighed in nonchalance as she looked at her father, eyes empty of all feeling; the woman left shortly afterwards. "I'll show the level of disappointment I have in you; you'll see me shred your every belief and I'll do so with this name, disgracing you as I do..."

"You insolent girl!" The man lunged at her, but she had already turned, and went through a window.

Everyone turned to see what had happened, and were amazed when, as she fell, she winked out of existence and back, right on the ground. They noticed that the black feline was still on her shoulder. McGonagall was impressed, the rest were awed while Rhyolus was astonished and proud.

"Huh, no wonder she gave me good tips to regain my bearings," Tori mused, smiling, eyes bright.

"What do you mean child?" The Professor inquired, amazed, especially after she disappeared again, this time with her mother and brother in tow.

"Well, when Treen asked me to do my disappearing act, she pushed me from a chair," narrow eyes landed on the embarrassed girl, "I landed on Jade, who helped me get a grip. I can safely believe she has had practice."

"I'll teach that girl!" The man remarked, and left in a run.

"Alright, everyone else, off to your houses!" McGonagall clapped her hands, "chop, chop!"

They all shuffled after the man, muttering and looking at the window, wondering. The stern woman stopped the Vega girls, looking intently at the youngest.

"Mind giving me a demonstration by going to your house?" She gently requested, but her stern look made the girl swallow.

"Am I in trouble?" She inquired, taking her sister's hand and the one from the stranger; she frowned a bit, "I've only ever sneaked with my sister so . . ."

"Take your time," the woman replied softly, "and no, you're not in trouble."

"How about the back yard?" Trina suggested and her sister shrugged.

With eyes close, she took a step forward and after the lurching feeling, she landed on her knees, gasping for air. She remembered the smooth voice telling her, '_take a deep breath, regain your sense of direction_' and did as her memory advised her. She could hear her mother opening the door and exclaiming and fretting in worry. But she remained on her knees until she felt confident enough to stand; she wobbled a bit, but the woman held her in her place.

"I must say, Holly," she looked at the girls with satisfaction, "your girls exceeded my expectations. How old were when you first performed this particular trick?"

"Uhh . . ." She was still dazed, and she had to shake her head a bit; her legs felt like jelly.

"She had seven or eight," her sister supplied, counting her fingers, "seven and a half!"

"I am expecting great things," her stern look was more kind and affable, "from the two of you."

"But, what have I done?" Trina sounded genuinely baffled.

"You, have done something never seen before," she turned to look at Holly, "survive what no one else has, at quite a young age as well . . .

"Now then Holly, we must talk," McGonagall remarked, her face incredibly stern.

"Pro— Professor McGonagall!" Their mother was clearly shaken to her core; she went to pick something to eat for her youngest, knowing how energy diminishing it could be, especially when taking others. She gave it to her girl, who ate it without reserve but mindful of their current company. "What are you doing here?! And you girls haven't answered me yet; where were you? I checked you rooms and—"

"_I_, am here to make sure you don't hide the truth for yet another year," it was a grim reply before Holly managed to side-track them all, tone becoming more severe.

"But, they're not ready!" The other woman spluttered, shaking her head. "If they go to Hogwarts now . . ."

"They'll be all right," McGonagall said firmly, sighing at all the drama. "They'_re_ of age Holly. Now, maybe it would be better to continue this conversation inside . . ."

"Good idea," David called, then popped his head through the door, "my pinky is tingling, it's going to rain. Will you be staying for dinner Professor?"

"Will someone explain what's going on?" Tori requested with a whimper; she was being led inside the house.

"I'll stay for some tea," McGonagall replied with a soft sight, "unless . . . You _are_ preparing the Vega Vintage dish?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied, winking at the girls and both of them giggled; it was a dish only their father could prepare.

"Then I guess I might be staying for dinner," the woman winced a bit, "oh David, you're always coaxing me with dishes!"

"Yay!" The girls exclaimed, but at the woman's frown, they pouted.

"I'll come after I explain to the Harris' family what's going on, stop by the Valentine's house for a bit, then I'll return in time for dinner," she glared at the parents, both who winced, "by the time I come back, I better find that these girls know everything they need to know."

With that said, McGonagall made a weird move, as if she was about to jump, but then she transformed into the Cat with square patterns around its eyes that Tori saw twice already, and then she slipped away through the back door. The saw that their father had been right, as dark clouds began covering the sky. Such a strange omen . . .


	5. Chapter 5-1: Wicked Witch

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 5: Wicked Witch

**West British Household, 16:21—22**

Jade was panting, while her little brother began crying. She was surprised that her mother didn't feel sick at all, but at least she could attend the boy.

"Oh Jet, it's okay honey," the woman cooed the child, running to the bathroom; the boy emptied his belly, "Jade baby, since when do you know how to apparate?"

"You knew about it too?!" She demanded; her mother came back to her a little worried, placing the boy on the couch to help him rest. "You knew and didn't tell me?!"

"Phoenix, love," that stunned the pale girl, making her stop; her mother rarely used her second name, "it wasn't that I didn't want to tell you, but since your father and I cannot perform magic, you wouldn't believe us . . ."

"Why doesn't dad like my second name?" She asked in a soft voice, going up the stairs in quiet steps; her mother made more noise and that was saying something. "I'll help you pack as soon as I pick my bro's and my runaway bags."

"Runaway bags?" The woman sounded alarmed. "Pack my things?"

"Yes mum, _pack_," the youngster frowned, "you didn't answer my question."

Jade left her mother on the second floor as she moved to the third, where she began picking up the bags she had prepared to run away with her little brother. She hadn't been able to trust her mother back then, but now she was much more inclined on doing so. Taking added precautions, she dumped them on the mini-elevators that she used when she could sneak inside and use to make quick trips to the basement, _before_ she learned the apparating magic. She had been her brother's age when she began using it (now he did), and stopped when she turned eight and had mastered the trick. Sending the old thing to the first floor, she realized that her mother was behind her, wheel pack ready and worried.

"My family has a mild tradition of naming our children after constellations," she began, placing a strand of blonde hair back, not bothering to push it behind her ear.

"Like dad's with rocks?" She inquired, frowning a bit.

"Yes, but a Phoenix is . . ." She could see the reluctance of her mother, and approached her cautiously, placing a hand on her arm; the woman smiled. "It's a symbol and a creature far too noble for those families who believe in purism."

"I'm guessing he had a fit when he learned," Jade smirked, "what kind of constellation is Lyra?"

"Oh child," the woman chuckled, but explained, "named after the lyre, the U-string harp, its alpha star is called Vega —"

"Vega?!" She was surprised by that, but her mother just chuckled.

"Life's funny that way," she mused, going down the stairs with her traveling bag, "before I got married, my sister Andromeda, and my cousin Sirius tried to persuade me from doing so, but I was far too compliant with my family . . .

"That's why I named you Phoenix," she remarked once they were at the first floor; Jet was obviously feeling better and had his sister's and his bags already with him, "you are my hope, you and Delphinus."

"Mum!" The child pouted; to say least, he didn't like the name. "Phoebe . . ."

"Jet!" He giggled and ran off, but his little legs were a liability as his sister caught him. "You know I don't like that nickname!"

He was giggling like mad, but their antics stopped as their mother ushered them to the kitchen, and made them some sandwiches. Jade was surprised with the five she had; these were like the subs from Subway, with plenty of lettuce, spinach and tomato in them. Jet was about to protest to the sheer amount of veggies, expected to be followed by his sister, but then he heard munching. The pale girl was _devouring_ her plate. Surprised, the boy decided to munch on his. They ate in relative silence, with their mother pouring them each, a glass of apple juice. She then took the chance to pour some milk in a saucer, and certain black kitty dashed to it.

"Now, you can't apparate with the two of us again," Lyra told her daughter, ruffling her son's blond mane with love and tenderness. "From here on, we must move on foot."

"And the car in the garage?" Jade inquired, swallowing her juice.

"Ah I, never learned how to use one," she was blushing, clearly ashamed.

"Hey, neither did dad," the girl reminded her mother, "too bad we only have one chauffer."

"What time is it?" The boy asked softly, finishing his juice; they heard rumbling in the background and he whimpered. "Phoebe, I don't like thunder . . ."

"Well, your big Phoebe," she was using the fact that her daughter began choking on her food, and was chugging down the juice, "cannot carry you; she's too tired from when she made you sick."

"But if we're going to run, one of us is going to have to carry him," Jade remarked, then began taking the bags from his brother, "shouldn't we try getting some wheels of sorts?"

"The only ones are from the cars," Lyra remarked with a sigh, then a certain kitty with milk beard jumped into his owner's lap, "what will you name this cutie?"

"Midnight?" She sounded uncertain, then smiled as it turned its big, blue eyes at her; the boy was laughing at the cat's beard, "yeah, eyes like full moon, fur as dark as night . . ."

"Creative sis," the boy complimented, but she narrowed her eyes at him; he had potential to deploy sarcasm. "What about dad?"

"Remember I told you about going away, just you and me?" He nodded. "Well, mummy is coming."

"Yay!" His cheer was contagious, making both females smile. "What about dad?"

"He's the one we're running away from," the girl stated and her brother pouted, "you know how he is, and I've already told you why we're running away, and why, above it all, away from dad."

"Oh . . . right!" He gave her a toothy grin, and she smiled back.

"Come, we have to leave," Lyra remarked, "I think your father will be here in fifteen or ten minutes."

"Wait, I want to take his cash!" Jade remarked, going off in the direction of the man's studio; she held the cat close, but he still slipped and fell into the hood of her hoodie. "Be right back!"

Her mother said something she couldn't hear, and after another rumble and a squeak from her brother, the two went after her. They found her shuffling and making a mess out of her father's desk. From pulling on several drawers, there was a click and a single, secret drawer popped open. Sneaking to it, she picked a single, golden key and her mother inhaled. Taking the key, she placed it in her pocket along with the cash she had taken from him. Her mother then urged for her to move on.

"What's the key mum?" She asked, as they left, walking fast.

"A key to Gringotts Banks," her mother replied as they picked speed, "I had no idea he still had it, I thought perhaps Dumbledore —"

"Dumbledore?" The girl frowned softly. "I've read the name somewhere..."

"Hogwarts Headmaster," Lyra said, soft frown in place, "we better keep such a delicate matter a secret . . ."

"Then you won't give us away?" She inquired in a soft voice, clearly a little scared; they began speeding up.

"Of course I won't baby," the older woman said with a smile, "I'm staying with you because you do _need_ a legal guardian, and because I love you and your brother."

"Thanks mum," she whispered after a while; they began trotting.

"Thanks mum," the boy mimicked, hiding and whimpering as thunder began rumbling again.

"Oh, but where are we going to stay?" Lyra remarked, stopping briefly; a furry head sneaked from her daughter's hood.

"I was thinking about Cat's —" then she frowned, noticing certain tabby cat run past.

"I think we just passed it though . . ." Her mother interrupted softly.

"Ah, no worries," Jade remarked, "the important thing now is not to stop moving. "Beck's?"

"The Oliver family isn't fond of ours," there was a sigh, "like most families . . ."

"Well, you can tell me more later, I really, _really_ want to know," and they kept moving, going into a trot again; they were lost as darkness fell.


	6. Chapter 5-2: Magical Music

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 5: Magical Music

**Hollywood Conservatory, 16:25... 16:26**

André had _so_ not been looking forward to the trip back. He had wanted to go walking but as it was, he was unable to do so without attracting attention. He had even hurried back downstairs, to prevent his current "keeper" from having a brain meltdown. Really, he liked Oliver, but for once he simply wanted to act his age. Once he was on the ground floor, he found the buff man stopping Mr. West who, for some reason, was doing anything but shouting. Grinning like mad, he went to the "bouncer" and slapped him a high-five; the pale man looked ready to burst a vein.

"Yo Oliver, my man," he said candidly, the man giving him a bro hug but extending a hand to prevent the wizard-without-magic (else he would use it, right?) from moving, "come, several of my friends are coming down and I think this guy scares certain redhead."

"He scares Cat?" The man frowned and took the skinny one in a tight hug, "lead the way hipster."

All the boy could do was grin at that and show his rowdy friend and their kidnapped adult to the back door. He liked being called anything but _Young Master Harris_ or _youngster_, which he found disrespectful, he and his friend decided to make their interactions much more amicable. André sighed in relief when he saw everyone else but the Vega sisters, leave. He then heard that same tune that described the girls' disappearing act, and could only conclude that they had already left. At most, he bought the pale girl some time.

"Let him go," he said dismissively, but Oliver just frowned a bit, "wait, I have a question: why don't you use magic?"

Oliver craned an eyebrow but kept quiet; the man being held looked furious and that didn't sit well with the other man.

"Look dude, one word of disrespect," he hissed, "and I'll make sure you know pain."

"Oh, I forgot," the boy said with a light frown as he saw the man's face turning red, obviously screaming, "can you hear him?"

"I don't know your tricks sir," Oliver replied wearily, and the boy nodded then snapped his fingers. "Wow, didn't you hear what I said! You mad mouth this kid and I'll make sure you can't _move_!"

"Put me down," the man remarked with a snarl, "you oaf!"

"Please Mr. West," André sighed, rubbing his temples, "you answer my question and I'll let you go."

"Well, maybe if just to _make you stop_ will I tell you," the pale man was seething, "I was prohibited from performing magic, and if I break it, I go to prison."

"Well, I say it might do you good," Oliver frowned, placing the man back down, "the slammer can change people, but I bet it can only be good for the likes of you."

The man snorted, forgetting why he had been running in the first place and going off in a dignified manner. Bodyguard and boy just stared and then began walking towards the Humvee parked at the back. The boy buckled his seat as the man turned on the car before doing the same and they were off. André began searching for a good radio station, but none was fit for his varied taste and mixing; placing it in a station which frequency wasn't being used, he began motioning with his hands, as though he was playing a guitar and the radio began reproducing a song the hew knew had to be coming out soon.

"Oliver, it seems that I won't be able to become a DJ," he said mournfully, as the man began singing with the lyrics.

"What are you talking about boy?" The man remarked with a light frown.

"Apparently, I'm to be a wizard," he remarked with a light pout, playing the guitar as he knew he loved.

"Hipster, when you began playing songs out of the radio, what did I do?" The man asked, lowering the volume a bit.

"Freak, out," the boy intoned.

"Yet here we are boy," Oliver smiled again, "I tell you, if I ever hear the ones who are to play this song, play it, I'll become _their_ body guard and make you meet them."

"That would be cool . . ."

The ride home was entertaining, but also confusing. All André Harris ever wanted, was to become a DJ, but his life seemed intent of pushing him on a different road.

**Harris current living arrangements, 16:48**

"André, where have you been boy?" His aunt, Oprah Winfrey, asked as he entered the house. "Now don't you think you can say just anything, I have access to the GPS the car uses."

He groaned and fell upon the couch, raising the letter high in the air. The woman gave Oliver a clear look, and the man cleared his throat and took the letter, going to pass it to her. Craning a brow, she took it, then treated it with care when she read it was addressed to her nephew. She loved the boy, and his mother, but she thought it was insane to get involved with the boy's father. Still, she did what she did best, and took care of him as though he was her own.

"We were at the Conservatory," Oliver said demurely, and she simply nodded. "I shall wait within the kitchen if you need me, I'll be happy to escort Young Master Harris to his next lesson."

"Perhaps . . ." She looked at the boy, "we should cancel."

"Uhhh . . ." The man was at a loss, especially when the boy beamed.

"You and I have a lot to talk about young man," she remarked, smiling as she sat down beside him; he moved to be closer to her, "it would seem that the party had more going on than thought . . ."

"Yeah, it was such a surprise!" He began telling eagerly what had happened. "Soon, eight owls came by, and one _fell_ on the cake!"

He laughed at the memory, kept speaking with some relish.

"André boy, we don't know for sure if this is real," Oprah began but stopped suddenly, checking her watch: 17:09. "Oliver's break is in 21 minutes, so why is a cat inside the house?"

Her musing was cut short as the tabby cat transformed into a woman with stern and severe expression. The boy gasped and stood. Both women looked at him cautiously, but he just went to the kitchen door and opened it a bit; the maids were preparing him his orange juice. Turning back towards the grown-ups, he cleared his throat, tried to speak then swallowed.

"Um, Professor McGonagall, would you like some freshly squeezed orange juice?" His inquire was so polite, the witch smiled.

"I would love some, Mr. Harris." The reply was as cordial, and he turned back to the kitchen, where he requested for another glass of juice. "Well, you seem to be quite polite."

"And very good observant," Oprah remarked from her seat; she was frozen, "I dare not call the police, for something tells me you're _indeed_ the witch my nephew described."

"Didn't I tell you?" He looked happy as he brought over the woman's glass and his own. "Although it looks as though it have been raining . . ."

He proceeded to look out the window, light frown in place, but the witch looked at him with approval. She proceeded to explain the situation, mentioning the fund though the woman shook her head at that. Being Oprah, she had a house near London, as well as a European bank account from which the boy could request money. Only he knew the pass code, and only he could use it, but the warning felt empty of impact. Aunt and nephew inquire on McGonagall's dinner plans, going as far as to invite her over for further conversation but she had to decline. The witch did answer their questions as best as she could, meaning she left the family quite happy with the arrangements. Since he could, he would travel for summer, or she would, but she was certainly travelling over for Christmas. Besides, she could spend it with the rest of her family who lived there; her sister Patricia had a son in a unique boarding school. Oprah suspected that the boy, Lee, was attending the Magical School as well. It could provide plenty of entertainment.


	7. Chapter 5-3: Tyrannosaur's Attack

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Victorious or Harry Potter, the former belongs to Dan and Nickelodeon, the latter to J. K. Rowling. This is a collab done with BloodyJesus and the idea is actually his, we're just working together to make this the best story possible.

Chapter 5: Tyrannosaurs Attack

**Shapiro Mansion, 16:27... 16:28**

The matriarch of the Shapiro household was a rather slim woman for her age, with short, white hair fluffy around her oval and soft peach-colored face. She had wrinkles, but mostly around her eyes, and a rather strong body and will. She sat demurely upon her chair, reading glasses out as she wept over the letter her daughter-in-law had written for her, as she went into labor in the Birthing Rhythm Midwifery in LA, having landed there after her Portkey was shattered by a Death Eater, eager in preventing her from leaving. It had taken her long before she finally found the dear woman again, but by then she was too late; she had died giving birth to two, young and healthy boys, and she didn't trust the Muggles to tell her who was born first. Papers had been signed, and they were Robert and Reginald Shapiro, named after their father and grandfather.

"Mamaw!" Robbie called as he entered her studio; he was pretty shaken, "come quick! Rex —"

"What did Reggie do this time?" She inquired with a sigh, standing elegantly and walking, beckoning her grandchild to follow her. "I expected your letters for your birthday, yet another disappointment . . ."

"Letter —?!" The boy's breath hitched, but she didn't pay him much mind.

"Reggie," she called as she entered the third floor of the grand house, knocking on the door before opening.

"My name," the temperamental boy began, scowl evident as was the rage, "is _Rex_!"

"You're named after your mother's father," she replied, frown appearing but her voice was as leveled as always, "so you are Reginald."

He growled at that, then stepped to stand before the woman and placed a piece of old paper in front of her. It was a feat, considering he was 55 inches tall and she was 5' 7". Taking the piece offered, she immediately recognized the paper as parchment, and she sighed in relief. She then noticed that she had taken two sealed letters, and turned them. Handing each of the boys their letters, she sat down on the bed and motioned for the two of them to read them. Robbie read that it was addressed to him, and that he should read it with his brother, but Rex had crushed it.

"You're asking me to read a letter," he began intoning, "when the last one I read said I was a wizard?!"

He made a ball out of the paper and threw it at his water basket.

"Rex —" His twin was shocked.

"No!" He bellowed, shoving the other boy towards their grandma. "She lied to us! How can _you_ side with _her_?!"

"She's our Nanan," it was softly spoken, but it made his brother snap out of it, "the one who found Hollywood Academy, the one who made sure we were healthy and well and —"

"I know! I know, I know!" He began stomping with each statement he made; Robbie was helped to stand by the woman they spoke of. "But hiding us this?! The fact that we're wizards!?"

"Rex..." His brother whispered as the other kept ranting; he stopped, still furious, and looked at his brother; the boy was looking at his carpet, while the woman behind still looked at him. "You're _literally_ burning a hole in the rug."

Surprised, he looked down and saw that, yes, his steps left small flames around his print's contour. He made an aggravated noise and stopped, fuming. After a while of awkward silence (for Robbie), their grandmother stood, and delicately picked the letter from the bin, straightened it, then handed it to Reginald, who had frozen when she approached him. She had never used force against him, but he knew her strength very well and, well, _feared_ her for it. Rigidly, he received the letter, and watched as she went to sit by his brother on the bed.

"I expected you to receive your letters on the day of your birthday," she remarked softly, "even though the school's in England, and there's a different school in North America, I knew you had seats reserved . . . Perhaps it's because there were several of you, and this means they could take several others from the zone, I'm not quite sure . . ."

"Beck, Cat, André, Jade and the Vega sisters all got letters," Robbie supplied.

"Then that's probably it." She sighed again. "See, I didn't hide the fact to annoy you," Rex snorted, "but because your mother requested me not say anything until you received your letters."

"Mom asked for this?" Rex inquired, incredulous.

"To keep both of you safe, her one last wish; and those letters you hold, her last words." She looked tired, but also relieved.

"If you knew magic," the angered one began, placing his letter on the inside of his jacket then making a fist, "why didn't you save her?"

"Keep us safe?" They each had different priorities, and this was an occasion in which this fact surfaced; they frowned at each other.

"I was lucky to have found the two of you," she replied sadly, "back then, war was harassing our native land; the Dark Lord and his followers, called Death Eaters, wanted to destroy Muggles."

"That's _it_?" Rex demanded, but the hard look his grandma gave him made him sit back.

"No, that's not _it_," she whispered back, her tone deadly; the boys shivered, "they not only killed your father, but made sure your mother had enough trauma to give birth to you boys a month early, and land not where she should have!"

"You couldn't find her?" Robbie whispered softly, eyes sad, "is that why you couldn't save her?"

"Indeed . . ." She reached for her pocket, a single tear leaving a trail on her impeccable cheek, "when they learned they were having twins, they requested Gringotts, that's the magical bank, to open two separate accounts, one for each of you. These, are the keys to your respective vaults."

"Is that normal?" Robbie inquired as he received his and stared at it in wonder; his brother stood and took his from the offered, delicate hand.

"No, but with war going on," she shrugged, "it was perhaps the best choice. Since there's more than the two of you, I'm sure you'll be going with the rest of your friends to Diagon Alley."

"Uhh," the boys looked at one another; a brief instance of shared awkwardness; Robbie was still the one speaking, "going where? Diagonally from where?"

She chuckled, placing a strand of white hair behind her ear, "Diagon Alley boys, an Alley called Diagon."

"And where exactly is this place?" Rex inquired; he was much calmer, although his key was caught in his fist.

"Diagon Alley?" At the affirmative, she gave the boy a piercing look, "London, England. Reggie, I know that look, you've used it plenty of times before getting into trouble, only this time, it looks serious."

"Good, because I'm serious," he took his Hogwarts letter then frowned; placing it on his jacket pocket along with his mother's letter, he then took out another, "care to send my reply letter? I'm not sure how to use an owl."

"Reginald," she began, a soft frown on her face as she took his letter but he gritted his teeth.

"My name, isn't Reginald Shapiro," the boy remarked with a mild snarl, "I am Rex Powers from now on!"

"Rex!" Robbie was bewildered by the sudden change.

"I don't care if you forgive her, _Robbie_, but I'm not!" Rex took out a duffle back from his closet.

"Wait, then how do you even plan to get to London?!" Robbie sounded scared; his brother was checking his passport and cash that he had. "Where did you get all that?"

"Are you insinuating I'm stealing?" He asked, snarl in place, frowning as he stuffed his pockets.

"You've been saving," they grandma said with approval, and sadness, "well, _Reginald_, you'll never be anyone else in my eyes; you'll always be my temperamental grandchild."

"You mean nothing to me," the cold tone was biting, "so since there's nothing holding me here, I'm returning to England and making my name be so feared, that everyone will forget that _Dark Lord_'s war."

That said, he left his room, stomping down the stairs and they heard the front door being slammed. Robbie was frozen, and the woman in the room, looked deeply shaken. Once sobs began emerging from her throat, did her grandson turned and hugged her. Holding her tightly and rubbing her back, he whispered softly.

"Don't worry Mamaw," he reassured, whisper clear, "I'll got to Hogwarts, find him, and show him that he's still Reginald Shapiro."


End file.
